"Silent Visitors"

they come without a sound
creeping into our space
our flowering Angel Patch
our cabin our woods

they don't even rustle
the leaves on the woods floor
or the glue traps in the cabin
for our ears to detect

the Aliens Scouts made more noise
when they walked around the woods
looking over the Alien Self Parking Area
where they will land their fleet of ships

Gypsy found one snake in the Angel Patch
when she dug a hole in the rocky ground
to fend off the afternoon heat
for a much needed nap

the Smooth Green Snake she found
buried deep in the ground
didn't have a chance
to escape her grip

I tried to save it
by putting it outside her fenced area
it returned and was in her mouth again
I removed it again still hoping

I did not see it again
so maybe it survived her grasp
unlike the lizards
who live in the Angel Patch wood piles

she spent the morning
playing with our first
baby squirrels of the year
born inside the mattress in the smoke house

the centipede on the bathroom floor
got stuck on the glue trap
which slowed it down enough
for me to wound it, pick it up, and flush

Carpenter ants and wasps and hornets
are still finding our bunkhouse
which is nearly ready for
its first guests to enjoy?

The good thing about this is
the bad guys are outside
where Carlos my organic pest control guy
can find them

We will continue to be alert
for the arrival of still more critters
who share our love
of the Texas Hill Country

"Joe"

Well, you see as we go
it's just Gypsy and me.
Here at the cabin
nestled snug in the trees,
we gather our blessings,
all that we can.
For awhile we knew
no neighbor next door,
so we would just sit
and watch not wanting for more.
Then one day we met Joe,
who lives on the hill nearby.
We sat for a time
a nice visit we had
a friend we had made,
we were sure glad.
His chickens lay eggs,
he gathers right from the nest,
supplying us with breakfast,
they are the best.
We are glad to know Joe,
because friends are like diamonds
they sparkle and glow.
We love to sit and reminisce
about old times gone by,
as old memories are gifts
remembering we try.
Gypsy and I are lucky you see,
to have Joe as a friend
is a good place to be.
For in the end
that's what they are for,
entering your life quietly,
not keeping score.
We find the know in each other
liking the stories it brings,
this is surely a life,
fit for kings.
There is no measure,
for a friend
is a treasure.

"Kody"

Special one
A wonder to me
Kody my grandson
The best you see

Say he is great
I'm bragging alot
He's perfect at 8
All he has got

Everything there
Nothing to change
He has quite a flare
To shift and arrange

We get on quite well
A sense of humor says so
Held in his spell
The best way to go

My heart fills with joy
He comes for a stay
He is a good boy
In every way

His laugh is contagious
He's one of a kind
He is marvelously outrageous
This grandson of mine

"Alone in the Woods"

It was a quiet, foggy
warm, woods morning.
Gypsy, my dog and I
lingered on the cabin porch;
me with my expresso,
Gypsy with a bone.
We noticed the wild flowers
awakened by the soft
light and moisture,
caressing them.
A humming bird came,
a crow called,
a jay squawked,
alone in the woods.

"Overcast Moments"

Call it what you want yourself to think,
"Overcast Moments" are going to happen to you,
if longevity finds your hand and holds on tightly.
Not just grey hair or middle age spread,
really old, brain soaked, full
of years and yesterdays you can't remember.
These moments enter your life flip flopping
into the lurking, mire of days when you are waiting,
for the expresso to start your train on the track
of connecting thoughts, searching for the moment,
confused only because your eyes opened this morning
when your dog Gypsy called
to be let outside to do her business.
She found a call to answer
while your phone was ringing unanswered.
These moments lay in wait for you,
invading, unwanted, relentless.
Where is that list you made of calls to make today?
Will you remember their numbers?
Will call waiting interrupt me, how does it work?
Will you remember who you just dialed?
Will you remember your username and password?
Will you be able to get a person on the phone?
Will you forget the grocery list?
Will you leave the green bags for carrying groceries in the car?
Will you forget your best friends name and your phone number?
Will you remember the names at your class reunion?
Will you remember things at 3am?
Will you put things away and can't find them,
and when you do find them, put them in the first place
you looked for them when you could't find them?
Will you drive by the very place you were going?
You had many items to get at the store,
but the one you specifically went to get, you forgot.
Have you already told the story about Grandmas' brother,
running around the windmill on the Ohio farm,
yelling fire, fire when there was no fire?
Memory is like the section of road,
made slippery from the water from the creek
that flowed over it most of the Summer.
It shines and sparkles in the sunlight,
but is so slippery it cannot grasp or hold
a single tale of its upstream journey.
There is an erosion problem,
in a mind like gumbo, cracking open only
when kindled by lightening strikes
to reminisce what was so sweet to be,
held in a life so full.
Time holds our life in punctilious memories.
It is what we have.
"Overcast Moments" are inevitabily embedded
on the calendar squares of our tomorrow.
We anticipate making the new ones,
we will forget.

"Vultures"

Vultures as a whole are not a problem here in our woods. They circle their world watching the living waiting for carrion to provide them the means of sustaining their lives. As rigormortis sets in a once living creature, the vulture seeks it out and devours it, cleaning the land of yet another lifeless creature. Consumimg the flesh of dead animals is repulsive to many forgeting that we humans do it all the time. The only difference is, that we usually cook it before we eat it. This large bird of prey, is covered and colored by brownisn, black feathers except for an unfeathered red head and yellow feet. It is a quiet bird and does not usually cause a disturbance as it it circles overhead. This is not the case here at our cabin in the woods. I don't mind when they come and sit on their favorite branch in a tree near the cabin. They hold their wings open, and sit for awhile allowing their wings to dry and clean. I don't mind when they circle our woods skimming the tree tops carried by the wind currents looking for their mext meal. They don't look big and ominous to me, but they do to someone else who lives here. If the vultures are circling our woods, this means they are circling my hunting dog Gypsys 60 by 70 foot, cedar post rabbit fenced area that is home to most of her prized possessions. She becomes extremely nervous when they appear and rushes in all directions after them whining and barking until they surrender and leave. She is frantic knowing they are after her and her favorite things she has so carefully hidden in her fenced area. There are times during this activity she tries dig up items and locate a new place to bury them. She will outwit the big, quiet, black birds who want her things. The neighbor dog, Hoss gives her warning barks if he sees the vultures before she does. His barks can aften be heard just ahead of the vultures arrival. This situation is a big worry to Gypsy. She is a bird dog and likes most birds. She plays with the doves, finches, titmice and jays. She even tolerates the squirrels in her own way. Its the vultures that have become her Achilles heel. She says we don't really need them. She will be happy when they are on the endangered species list. Her bad dreams are all about vultures. She counts Hoss as loyal and faithful friend. Together she is sure they are going to solve this problem. Sweet dreams.

"Woods Shadow"

As the sun rose this morning
the shadow of the woods
moved quietly through the cabin.
The leaves on the branches
of the trees, outlined by the sunrise
danced across the front
of the kitchen cabinets
and hooked up with the woods again
through the kitchen windows.
A quiet movement in a quiet place
artistically clinging to anything it touched.
I sometimes just stand in the cabin
and watch the morning light move
along its assigned path.
There is no place it can't go.
Like the caress of the wind as it
fines your face and cools it
on a hot Texas day.
Like a gentle hand supporting you
when you are alone and quiet.
The moments of solitude that feed your soul
with the formless things that will transend,
giving you the peace and joy so many seek.
Position your feet where you want them.
Fine tune your thoughts
like a fine violin, and then listen to them
as they enter your life for the first time.
Eager to feel and dream what others
spend a life time searching for
as they stumble over the world.
Pick up your feet my friend,
life is short, even in the woods.
The shadows will fine you,
there is no place they can't go.

"Cedar Waxwings"

The Cedar Waxwings came as they do every year,
brassy, brash and beautiful.
They flutter around, hanging together
asking for premission to land
from some unknown source.
They make rows in the trees
on long clean branches
afraid to go it alone.
Their black Zoro mask makes them easy to spot,
soft blended colors gives them a waxy look.
They eat the berries and get a drink,
all landing at once in the birdbath
pushing and shoving to find a spot,
then rushing back to a branch.
Where are they going so fast?
Do they need a plan?
Do they know how beautiful they are?
I would like to hold them in my eyes
for a longer time to see, to memorize.
We must be content to catch a glimpse
each Spring as they hurry on their way.
We hope they will come and visit us,
on yet another Spring day.

"Bridled Titmouse and The Jay"

There are some Bridled Titmouse working on building a nest in the wren house I put up last year on the front porch of the cabin. It is high, off to the side, near the ceiling on one of the logs. They may share this house with the wrens, if they do something like that here in the Texas Hill Country. I watch them from my perch in the cabin, where I rest each day after working outside and eating lunch. I linger alittle longer to watch the them. Today, I got distracted by a surprise visitor.
I was interrupted by a young, Blue Jay who lost his way at high speed and knocked himself out cold as his head came in contact with one of my porch windows, not the one I was looking through. Since Gypsy was outside that window, I moved quickly to see where she was and if she heard the noise the jay made when it hit. When I saw her, she was showing interest in the sound she had just heard. I jumped up, ran outside and sat on the porch to babysit the eye blinking jay until it flew away. Now, don't jump to conclusions. Just because some young, inexperienced Blue Jay lost his way and ended up unconscious on Gypsys, porch, does not mean, if she could have, she would have clenched her teeth around it and smiled. She has boundless compassion for small injured birds and lizards. However, she does have forgetful moments. This happens as we get older. She gives everyone a fair chance. The lizard she killed was sick and the dove she brought me was already dead from its slap on the head from the cabin window. Or we might say, we assume this was the case. It is true, that concerning many of these events, we will never really know the exact truth. We trust her to be the well disciplined dog we know her to be. She may shave a few edges off what she tells me, but I trust her implicitly. Now back to the Birdled Titmouse.
There are two titmice who come and go from the birdhouse on the porch bringing bits and pieces of grass and twigs for their nest. They take turns entering the house. One goes inside and the other leaves for more nest material or remains perched on top of a nearby log. In an effort to stay closer to the hole in the birdhouse, one of the titmice hangs upside down. Its tiny, claw like feet hang on tightly to the groove under the log, close to the birdhouse. It has difficulty hanging upside down for long periods of time, so it begins to flutter its wing, in a steady, non stopping motion. This gives ballast, so it can continue to hang there, up side down waiting for its mate to finish building their nest. I saw them again later and one of them did the same thing again hanging on the side of the birdhouse. This is a first for me. I have never seen a bird flutter its wings just to help maintain a holding a precarious perch. Usually, they just fly up, land, sit and wait. They are on the front porch, so they are not threatened by Gypsy if they fall. Perhaps this is why they are willing to risk, a questionable, upside down grip that could potentially result in another grip in Gypsys' mouth. Though these situations are my conjured moments, they may hold a word of truth. Gypsy likes birds who takes risks. She patiently points, watches and waits.

"Spring Has Sprung"

Spring blew in on the wings of storms delivering 40 mile an hour gusts of wind. We had battened down the hatches in preparation. Visitors here at our cabin in the woods have also prepared for the blustering arrival of our change of season. The woods was evolving, bursting with new life. We were waiting for our first sign of the unwelcome chiggers. The bunkhouse remodeling was in the planning stages. Bill and Chris from,"Helping Hand," Bill business, were signed up to do the work. Lee, our pastor, mentor had been here to fix our solar gate and George, our singer, song writer painter was scheduled to come to touch up a paint job. Everything seemed to be tip top. It is best we don't always know the future.
Gypsy had buried all her bones in or near my "Angel Patch" flower garden which is inside her fence. She was patroling even when she looked like she was asleep on her pink sheepskin bed we had moved to the porch which is also inside her fenced area. The weather had warmed to the point where she could spend most days outside. She also stayed alert when she was resting inside the cabin on her favorite blanket tucked into her navy, blue, leather sofa. She is a fine and perhaps the only example of a well disciplined, unspoiled dog. The fact that she rules and totally controls me is completely insignificant. We were happy. We thought everything was going well. That was until an unexpected problem arrived from the woods.
One day Bill and Chris came to work on the bunkhouse. We decided to check out the only room, other than an outdoor kitchen, in another building, the smoke house. This was the only building on our five acres we had not yet investigated. We were pretty sure some critter was living there. Bill had a thing that looked like an antenna, about three feet long. Chris had one of my old, gray, metal crutches, and I had a broom. Armed we headed for the smokehouse nestled back in a quiet section of the woods. Bill opened one of the window shutters on the side of the enclosed room. The screen had been torn off. This should have been a clue. In the middle of this room was a raised mattress, covered with a blue tarp. Bill took the antenna and reached in the window and started to move the tarp. Something ran out and up the wall and out a hole in the ceiling. We saw a flash, so we were not sure what it was. I screamed and ran, Chris positioned his crutch to fend off whatever might appear and Bill jumped back a few steps. We carefully reconnoitered at the window. What was it? We held a pow-wow before proceeding on to our next step. Bill once again reached inside the window with the antenna. He slowly started to pull the tarp off of the bed. Nothing more moved. He then gingerly pulled off the sleeping bag that was covering the mattress. There was a hole in the middle of the mattress about a foot in diameter amd probably a foot deep. Inside were several baby squirrels. When exposed they did what mom had told them to do and tucked themselves in real deep. We watched, they did not move. Now, is this a perfect spot to start a new life? You bet! Bill covered the babies with the soft down sleeping bag and then the tarp. We quietly left the area laughing at our bravery. We hadn't yet thought that these little squirrels would eventually leave their nest. Time passed and we forgot about the baby squirrels. Then one day they left their nest. These little darling started a full frontal attack on Gypsy inside her fenced area. They ran all over her trees flaunting themselves often times just inches from her nose. They disreguarded her points. They sat on the bird feeder and ate in front of her. They sat in her bird bath and drank time after time. They ran across the top of her fence. They ran to the last tree before the fence, hit the ground and escaped her wrath finding just the right spot to go under. They ran on the roof of her cabin. She was sure she has tasted squirrel fur. However, she was focusing on the blood and gut scenario. They entertained her all day, leaving her exhausted. She now has new dreams as darkness sends us to bed here in the quiet cabin in our woods. As sleep overtakes her, her eyes and mouth begin to twitch. She sees baby squirrels everywhere, scolding her and flashing their tails at her. Humiliating her! She must catch one! There are so many now, not just the two we use to see. Surely one of these is for her? She holds her point waiting for one of them to make just the smallest mistake. She thinks she is a good girl and will be rewarded. She knows the God of dogs is on her side. Her dream ends with a squirrel clenched tightly in her mouth. She thinks she is lucky to have wish come true dreams. She slept late that morning. Such is life in your dreams here at the cabin in the woods.
A hummimgbird scout came the last week of March. He found the feeder I put up and also the one my eight year old grandson Kody put up. The hummingbird claimed them. Now the other hummingbirds have come and the battle for the claimed feeders has begun. They are beautiful to watch, never ceasing to amaze us. I will see them later when the morning glories are blooming outside the window where I write. They will come and say hello as they stop and look in the window. I am never sure how they are able to hover in one spot like they do, a bird helicopter.
The baby rabbits were playing near the thick cover by the edge of the woods. At fists I thought they were squirrels. However, the movement did not quite match that of a squirrel. So, I got the binoculars and checked. Sure enough two more Spring arrivals were out and about enjoying a beautiful day with Gypsy and me. They were wise enough to play a long way away from Gypsys fenced area. We had seen a very large cottontail at the feeding area near Gypys fence earlier in the week. Probably mom or pop to these baby rabbits. They have the biggest, blackest, round eyes I have ever seen, sort of like a shark. Rabbits can almost see their entire perimeter because their eyes are set on the sides of their heads. They have incredible patience to remain sitting and wait. Like Gypsy on a point. Like the mother squirrel who waited for the intruders to leave before returning to her nest of babies. Like a hummimgbird waiting for a poacher. Benjamin Franklin said it,"Patience is a virtue." We patiently wait.

"Wild Blue Yonder"

filmstrips stack
a thin strip of life
held on the racks
of joy and strife

cameras are eyes
recording moves
under the sky
finding the grooves

lenses are focusing
automatically
silently rotating
searching to see

paying a toll
stopping at lights
shopping at malls
boarding flights

parking lot scenes
where films stop time
the steetlights beam
revealing a crime

we can't escape
they want to know
where we are going
fast or slow

this day will show
what we never see
watching us go
never letting us be

it's big brother
he alive and well
waiting for another
story to tell

some mysteries sealed
caught on the frame
all is revealed
end of the game

don't handcuff us yet
we haven't seen all
our lives are not over
we are having a ball

watch from the start
there's much you won't see
what lives in our hearts
will keep us free

cameras let us be
to freely wander
so you can see
our wild blue yonder